


The Bus Journey

by quittersneverwin



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, literally just a drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 13:54:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quittersneverwin/pseuds/quittersneverwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So Jehan meets someone on a bus who isn't as scary as they seem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bus Journey

The man who got on the bus was extremely attractive. He he had dark hair that fell in waves into his cool blue eyes. His skin was pale. Jehan - no of course he wasn’t staring - felt himself sit up slightly straighter and smooth his hair. The man was glaring around at the other members of the bus clearly of the opinion that he was intimidating. As well as this, he was tall, thin yet clearly strong, with an odd ferocity that Jehan never thought he would find attractive.

An unexpected change, however, occurred when the bus started moving. Apparently, being too preoccupied with putting up a front, the man had forgotten to grab onto the pole just behind him. The vehicle lurched forward and he stumbled before losing his balance completely and landing on his hands and knees. A few nervous chuckles rose from the braver members of the audience at this strange performance. 

Bright red in the face and glaring, the man clambered to his feet much more gracefully than his recent collapse. For half a moment, his eyes locked with Jehan’s and the poet felt his heart in his mouth. The man’s eyebrows knotted together with more determination as he leant back against the rail once again (although Jehan noticed that, this time, his hand grasped tightly at the support).

Over the next ten minutes of the journey, the stranger caught Jehan’s eye a couple of times when he was absolutely not checking him out but damnthosejeansmadehisbuttlooknice.

After way too short a time, the man showed signs of preparing to get off the bus and Jehan made a split second, potentially disastrous decision. He stood and, after shoving his way past a very rude woman in the least confrontational way he could muster, made his way to the front of the bus. 

He thanked the driver and stepped into the cold air before realising that he had no idea where he was and it was also starting to rain. He also saw the the man who he had not been following had turned to stare at him.

“What are you even doing here?” He looked annoyed but his blue eyes suggested he was slightly amused by the poet’s behaviour. Shit. Now Jehan had to come up with some sort of reasonable excuse. 

“I live here.” He looked around. This area was about as different from his home as you could get. The man seemed to sense this as his raked his eyes up Jehan’s clean, flowery body. It was definitely a contrast to the tight, black, ripped garments that the stranger himself wore. 

“I don’t think so, mate”

“Well, maybe not. My uncle does, though.” Still, the man raised one stupidly perfect eyebrow and flicked a strand of hair out of his eyes. He was smirking and Jehan could feel any feasible retort stick in his throat at the way the corner of his lips curled. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, the man extended a hand. 

“Name’s Montparnasse.” 

Jehan couldn’t function. He managed to make his brain work long enough to produce some sort of handshake after, as subtly as he could, wiping his hand on his flowers jeans (or “what are they you cannot wear those in public” as Bahorel liked to call them).

By the time Jehan got back on the bus and arrived very late to his class, he was more than sure that it had been worth the detour.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if there was any good but I wrote this so I decided to see if anyone thought it was alright or not.


End file.
